In the Heat of the End
by LittleNikki
Summary: Beginning at the end of Conviction, James Vega is assigned to guard one of the most influential women in the galaxy, a women he himself considered to be almost godlike in her accomplishments and adventures, Commander Shepard. Shepette/Vega


_Disclaimer: Shepard, Vega, and a whole mess of other characters and scenes and all other sorts of goodness belongs to Bioware_

_A/N: So I've taken on the task of trying my hand at a Veperd (term coined by the awesome Foxhound) fanfic by the urgings of certain members and forumites of the James Vega Support Thread on the BSN. So here is the intro, and if interest is high enough I'll keep adding on! Enjoy!_

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><p><em>Why give up? Why give in?<em>

_It's not enough, it never is_

_So I will go on until the end_

_We've become desolate_

_It's not enough, it never is_

_But I will go on until the end_

_Until the End ~ Breaking Benjamin_

"Commander…Shepard?"

Beneath blood soaked eyelids, head still pounding to the brink of insanity, James Vega skeptically regards the woman clapped in irons, ultimately defeated. She barely lifts her sight to greet both men as they enter the ship.

**Her** ship.

"Anderson." Shepard nods to the elder Admiral, her eyes pausing momentarily on that of the larger man to his left. She doesn't verbally acknowledge him however, choosing instead to lift her cuffed wrists, tilting her head slightly to allow a halfhearted salute to the obvious solider.

"Lieutenant Vega, you will be in charge of escorting the Commander here to trial. I'm correct in being assured you will be able to handle her whereabouts until then?" A roundabout way of saying 'don't lose this', but Vega nods his head to the highly decorated officer respectfully, casting yet another glance to the hunched woman slightly hidden beneath shadow.

"Good. Go ahead and head down to the med bay to see the Normandy's medic, Doctor Chakwas. She will be expecting you." Anderson orders, effectively cutting of Vega's line of sight from the prisoner now under his charge by placing himself between the two, "I will send someone to brief you further after your injuries have been tended to."

"Yes sir!" Vega salutes, a nasty habit of etiquette and respect well embedded in his head after years of training and boot camp. His curiosity still itching like a bad rash, he regretfully drags himself away from the highly personal scene it seemed would soon unfold, the events of this day taking a far turn from playing cards in a bar with a couple of grumpy batarians.

oOo

"I swear, it's like you boys just go looking to get sliced up." Doctor Chakwas scolds, clicking her tongue as she further inspects the deep gash, "Scaring yourself up for the ladies might sound like a good idea, until you get thrown in my sick bay and have to listen to an old lady prattle on instead."

James Vega, 1st Lieutenant to the System Alliance Military, now reduced to a wincing mass of shame by a gray haired fleet doctor. Oh if Instructor Briggs could see him now.

"Ah shit!" Vega curses, jerking away from the slender fingertips prodding none-too-carefully at the still bleeding cut covering the main portion of his skull.

"Oh shush now, and stop fidgeting." Chakwas chides, continuing her previous menstruations without any hint of remorse. That is how all military doctors were of course, but still, the woman could have always _feigned_ sympathy for the beat up solider sitting before her…even if these injuries were _technically_ his fault.

"I hope you're not beating up our newest crew member, Doctor." A calm, somewhat amused voice draws both occupants attention to the med bay entryway, "I don't need them to tack on abuse of military personnel to my trial hearings."

Shepard leans against the open doorframe, a smirk playing across her lips and pinching her cheek. Despite his better judgment, Vega finds himself staring stupidly at the woman he had long seen as legendary. Already the second time today he finds himself at a loss for words. Great.

"Of course not Commander, the Lieutenant here is just being a little over sensitive without the dull of Medi-gel." Chakwas notes, setting her eyes back upon the task of patching up the large wound.

"You know I've been temporarily discharged right? Technically I'm not 'Commander' anymore."

"Of course, **Commander**, whatever you say." Shepard shakes her head, Vega noting the growing smile shielded beneath her tilted head. As if feeling his eyes on her, Shepard's gaze snaps to meet his, rendering the wounded solider paralyzed almost instantly.

_**How** the hell does she do that?_

"We weren't properly introduced before, my apologies." Shepard moves from her spot near the door, "Being cuffed on your own ship tends to put one in a sour mood, go figure." She reaches Vega and Chakwas in just a few steps, extending her hand in a open greeting.

"You can just call me Shepard, though I think you already knew that. I'd give you my first name, but no one seems to use it anyways." A strong handshake. That's the first thing Vega notes about his first contact with the woman, not surprising for those long accustomed to the role of leadership. Second, the almost unnatural warmth emanating from her skin, almost as if an overworked machine lay hidden beneath a human façade of flesh and blood.

He had heard the rumors of her return from death itself. That she was actually a clone, or an AI built by the ruthless engineers of Cerberus to advance their own human centric needs. They only got more ridiculous as the list went on, but still they existed, Vega unable to stop the thoughts from creeping to the forefront of his mind.

"Vega right? I think I heard Anderson address you as such." Shepard's cool voice draws him from the cage of his own mind, cursing inwardly once he realizes how idiotic he must look just sitting there, a speechless hulk of tattoos and muscle.

"Yes ma'am, James Vega." He moves to stand at attention, Shepard's reflexes much faster as she places a hand on his shoulder and forces him back down onto the cot.

"That's a nasty paper cut there Vega," Shepard eyes the Doctor knowingly, "There's gotta be one hell of a story behind it."

"Just a bar scuffle, nothing serious ma'am." Vega finds it hard to keep his eyes on Shepard's close proximity, instead deciding to focus his attention on that of his boots.

His left shoelace was untied.

"Oh yea? No wonder Anderson looked so pissed. Not a fan of the club scene that one."

"No disrespect ma'am," Vega takes a deep breath, steadying himself against the blinding pain searing through his head, "But aren't you supposed to be in the brig?"

Shepard smirks once again, setting a hand on each one of her hips in a defiant manner.

"Oh _that_. Well I managed to sweet talk the key card from the guy assigned to watch me in your absence, such a people pleaser that one. Knocked him out once I got free of those nasty handcuffs and made my way up to the bridge. Needless to say, I don't think we'll be flying anywhere near Earth anytime soon." Vega's eyes flash red as he jumps up from the cot, Doctor Chakwas having been knocked back in the process. A clear foot taller, James glares down at the suddenly surprised woman in front of him. Legend or not, Vega still had an assignment to take care of. He wasn't about to let his duty go unaccomplished.

_Not again_

"Whoa! Down boy!" Shepard raises both hands defensively, gently laying one upon Vega's chest in attempts to force him back, "I was kidding."

Vega doesn't budge, every one of his senses on full alert as adrenaline surges through his body like an unchained varren.

"Lieutenant please sit back down! I've known the Commander for years and she would never-" Chakwas starts, her eyes darting over to catch Shepard's warning gaze, "I mean, not without good reason of course…It was just that one…You know what, I'm just going to go over here now and see if we have some extra Medi-gel stocked in the AI core." Chakwas's black and gray uniform disappears behind the sliding circular doors without a moment's hesitation, leaving the two soldiers locked in a tense face off.

"Vega…James! Listen to me, it was just a joke! Everything is fine. Anderson gave the order to allow me to walk the ship freely as I have no intention of making a speedy getaway. Hell, **I** surrendered to **them**." The hand resting against Vega's chest tightens momentarily, the fabric of his gray alliance tee knotting between her fingers as she applies even more pressure to the still enraged man.

Wordlessly, Vega suddenly collapses onto the cot behind him, barely missing it by an inch and causing Shepard to react accordingly by seizing him at the shoulders. Pain sears through every inch of his being, the injuries to his head and face more severe than he had previously anticipated. With the sudden rush of adrenaline now leaving his body, every ache and sharp twinge of agony is intensified ten fold, Vega utilizing every ounce of self control to not scream out in anguish.

"Breathe Vega, deep even breaths," Shepard soothes, helping the bulky man to lie down comfortably, "Chakwas! We need you back in here, **quickly**."

Vega's eyesight blurs in and out, Shepard's concerned face soon joined by that of the determined and knowledgeable Chakwas flittering over him in a fit of haste. He tries to speak, only to find the vile taste of vomit staining his tongue and burning up the length of his esophagus.

"It's alright Vega, we'll talk later. Just try to relax and listen to-" Is the last sentence he hears pouring from Shepard's comforting lips, her eyes once again paralyzing him to the spot and allowing his own to finally close for a much needed rest.


End file.
